


watchdog

by phollie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Blood, Light Masochism, M/M, Sparring, eren is a gross boy and marco is concerned for his wellbeing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phollie/pseuds/phollie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“See?” Marco laughs out. “You’re a righteous person. You care for others.”</p><p>“Coming from someone as good as you, that’s…” Eren lets out a laugh that’s more of an exhale of breath, a little whistle through his teeth. His smile takes a turn for what Marco can only liken to bashful; it’s bizarre and out of place on a face so intense, a stray petal tacked onto a wall of thorns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	watchdog

**  
**::

**watchdog**

:: 

            Marco would like to think he’s exaggerating, but one look at his sparring partner and it’s an undeniable truth - if Eren Jaeger had a tail, it would be wagging right now.

            “You wanna be the good guy or the bad guy?” Eren asks, tossing the wooden knife from one hand to another like a game of hot potato. “I mean, uh, we can switch and stuff eventually, but what d’you wanna start with?”

           Marco can’t help but need to suppress a smile at how Eren’s eyes are glowing, his long throat bobbing in quick little swallows. “Actually,” he says, stepping forward to take the knife from Eren’s hand, “I’ll be the bad guy first, if that’s okay.”

            “You sure?”

            “Positive.” Marco readies his attack position and gives Eren an encouraging smile when he seems to hesitate. “Are you ready?” he asks. “It’s not like you to wait. This is your field of specialty, right?”

            “Not sure if I’d call it that,” Eren says, shifting his feet so that his legs are shoulders’ width apart.  “I was just an asshole kid who fought a lot.”

            “For good reasons, I take it?”

            Eren looks down at the ground for a moment before his eyes flit over to Armin a few feet away, who seems to be in the middle of a slow, step-by-step lesson from Mikasa on how to break someone’s wrist. Eren gives a goofy sort of smile and scrubs a hand through his hair before looking back at Marco. “Yeah. Good reasons.”

            “See?” Marco laughs out. “You’re a righteous person. You care for others.”

            “Coming from someone as good as you, that’s…” Eren lets out a laugh that’s more of an exhale of breath, a little whistle through his teeth. His smile takes a turn for what Marco can only liken to bashful; it’s bizarre and out of place on a face so intense, a stray petal tacked onto a wall of thorns.

            “We should get started before the instructor gets on us for slacking,” Marco says on a murmur, looking around to make sure they’re still in the clear. “Wouldn’t want to get scolded, would we?”

            Eren blinks back to his usual state of wide-eyed alertness, resuming his stance of defense with an easy drop of his hips. “Right, yeah. Good when you are.”

            “Alright,” Marco says, gripping the wooden knife. “Here I come.”

            He attacks at Eren’s left, making to pantomime stabbing him through his chest, and Eren counters him effortlessly, a smooth turn of his heel and a yielding of his left shoulder to send Marco careening through the space where he once was. Marco pivots with the intention of going for Eren’s back, but Eren follows his train of thought at once and ducks to dodge the swipe; Eren links onto Marco’s attacking arm and pins it roughly behind his back before a slender leg kicks out behind his ankle and sends him toppling to the ground. Marco laughs breathlessly as he covers his fall and feels Eren’s weight on top of him as the knife is taken out of his hand, signaling Marco’s defeat and ending the round.

             Eren is all but glowing as he straddles Marco’s hips, back to playing hot potato with the knife as he tosses it from one hand to the other. “That was a good fall,” he says, wiping his bangs out of his eyes with the back of his hand. “You covered yourself like they taught you. Mostly everyone else forgets to or just doesn’t bother.”

            “I figure that sort of thing is important, right? Better to pay attention than to slack off and be lost when the need for this thing actually arises.” Marco props himself up on one elbow with the means to get back up, but Eren doesn’t move, just watches him with his strange golden eyes and his head tilted to one side as he dazedly tosses the knife between his hands. Marco smiles up at him quizzically. “You okay up there?”

            “Wanna switch now?” Eren asks too quickly. “I’ll be the bad guy.”

            Marco is almost positive that Eren’s imaginary tail is wagging again. “I - yeah, sure, that’s fine.”

            Eren nods and scrambles up to his feet, reaching down a hand to help Marco up. Marco takes it and hoists himself back up to a standing position; Eren’s hand is hot and damp, too warm to be clammy. Marco watches him, quietly amused, as Eren swallows and takes up his attacking position, eyes blazing bright and excited when he asks, “You ready for me?”

            Marco bows his head with a small, pleasant smile. “You know it.”

            Eren sucks in a breath and holds it. His hesitation is such a fleeting thing that it’s barely there at all, and then he’s flying toward Marco in a blur, the knife poised for his throat. Marco’s mind works quickly to conjure up a proper counter, every lesson and tutorial playing through his memory in a neat, collected rush. He sidesteps Eren’s attack and spins around so that he’s behind him, grabbing at his attacking arm and twisting it by the wrist so that the knife points away; a firm, studious touch to a pressure point has the knife dropping from Eren’s hand, and Marco gives a quiet little laugh of victory before his free arm links around Eren’s neck. “You okay?” he asks, holding Eren tight against his chest, incapacitating him.

            “Yeah,” Eren breathes out, shoulders rising and falling in rapid breaths. “Yeah.”

            “Taking you down now, okay? Get ready to fall.”

            “Don’t warn me,” Eren says with a shake of his head. “Just - just fuck me up, come on.”

            Marco blinks at him in quiet shock, but Eren turns his head just enough to be able to look at him out the corner of one eye. “A real enemy wouldn’t stand here waiting for you to take them down,” he says quickly. His face is flushed, his words breathless. “I mean - you think you have the advantage holding me against you like this, but I could easily go for a bunch of weak spots you still have wide open - “

            Before he can keep going, Marco heeds his advice and sweeps his feet out from under him, sending Eren buckling to his knees and flattening in the dusty dirt when Marco holds him down with a hand between his shoulder blades. “There you go,” Eren huffs out on a hoarse laugh, his body all but vibrating in Marco’s hold. “Now just take my arm - no, not that one - yeah, that one - and pin it behind me so I can’t move it. Real hard.”

            “Got it.” Marco follows his instructions carefully, but Eren squirms impatiently when he’s too mindful about it. “What am I doing wrong? Is it the angle or…”

            “You gotta do it harder,” Eren says. “Don’t go easy on me. You gotta think of me as the real enemy here or else it means nothing.”

            Marco takes a quick glance around at the other trainees slacking off, throwing flimsy punches and cracking jokes, before looking down again at Eren’s tense back and the sharp, jutting bones of his shoulder blades. “Good point…”

            He twists Eren’s arm harder, tucking it close against his back and pushing down until Eren isn’t squirming anymore. Marco hears the breath leave Eren’s chest in a swift sigh, and he’s just about to lean in and ask if it hurts too much, but Eren takes in another sharp breath and gives a fast, approving nod of his head. All Marco can see are are the sharp points of his canines when he smiles a wild, twitchy smile, the dark crash of his hair covering his eyes. “That’s it,” he gasps out, his voice high and tight. “That’s - yeah, you got it…”

            “Tone it down, Jaeger,” Instructor Shadis grunts out as he passes the two of them by. “Before you get a nosebleed.”

            “Yes, sir, sorry, sir,” Marco says at once, releasing Eren’s arm.

            Shadis looks over Marco with his eyes like bullets. “ _You’re_  in the clear, Bodt,” he says, turning his attention back to Eren, who is still lying in the dirt, shoulders heaving and eyes closed. Shadis gives him one last unimpressed look before nodding to Marco and taking his leave to survey the rest of the squad.

            Eren remains in the dirt for a few tremulous seconds until he rolls over onto his side, flashing Marco a crooked grin. There’s blood in the slits between his teeth and dripping from his bottom lip, and Marco’s stomach flips over in shock as he scrambles onto his knees and kneels before him. “Oh god, are you okay? I thought I was being careful but if I hurt you - “

           “You didn’t do it,” Eren says, bringing up a hand to wipe the blood from his chin. The movement is casual and light, almost pretty. “It was all me.”

            “You know you have to be careful not to bite your lip when someone takes you down,” Marco says sternly. “You can get seriously hurt, even just in practice like this.”

            Eren wipes his chin again, still smiling that little tilt of a smile that makes Marco feel a little nervous; not nervous in the sense of looking at something dazzling, but rather looking at a swelling storm, dark clouds gathering, staring at the sharp fangs of a hungry animal, watching shadows collect in the darkest corners of dusty rooms.

            “Don’t worry about it,” Eren says, getting to his feet. When Marco remains kneeling, Eren offers down a hand to him, his hair clinging to his bloodied, bitten lip as he smiles. “I did it so that you won’t hold back anymore. See?” Eren touches the bite wound with his fingertip, not even wincing; Marco winces for him. “I can take it. Doesn’t even hurt.”

            Marco clears his throat and gently rejects Eren’s offered hand, seeing the blood still staining his fingertips. He gets to his feet and makes to grab the knife, but Eren beats him to it and swipes it up. “Take me on again,” he says through the blood in his teeth. He spits it out onto the dirt, smiles like everything is dandy. “This time for real.”

            Marco swallows, feeling the color leave his face. Eren blinks at him with such innocence that it’s almost as if he isn’t bleeding all over the front of his shirt and looking like a hungry wolf. “Marco?” he asks, fingering his bitten lip again. “You ready?”

            Laughter rings out from a few feet away, hushed and secretive. Marco turns to assess it and sees two trainees doing little more than playing, nudging each other, joking. Slacking.

            He turns back to Eren and finds the sunlight slashing around him like a thousand golden knives. It lights him up all over until the blood on his mouth shines as it falls to its death in little droplets at his feet. When he reaches up to wipe at it, the pass of his fingers leaves a red streak across his cheek, fresh and bright.

            The muscles in Marco’s shoulders relax. His body turns to water. “Yeah,” he says. “Ready.”

            Eren smiles with red teeth. The sunlight pulses around him like a beating heart.


End file.
